Memories of F-16s

THE F-16s issue is back and along with it, memories of betrayals past. The recent refusal of
Congress to sanction funds from the Foreign Military Financing (FMF) programme to help pay a
large part of the cost of buying eight new F-16 fighter planes has stoked memories of the late
1980s. But it would be a mistake to miss the important lessons that the moment carries for us.
Then as now, a war was winding down in Afghanistan as a superpowers army made
arrangements to withdraw its forces and leave behind a functioning government of its own
design. Then, as now, Pakistans alliance with America was fraying, due to the clandestine
nuclear programme at the time and the question of militant sanctuaries today. The Shakil Afridi
issue, added on by some members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to justify the
refusal to sanction government funds for the arms, is just for public consumption, an issue
around which politics can be easily built.
The real reason is clearly the diminishing utility of Pakistan brought on in part by an inability on
its part to arrange for an Afghan Taliban delegation at the Afghan peace talks, as well as an
inability to deliver a reduction in the levels of violence.

Sartaj Azizs statement that Pakistan can buy its fighter planes from elsewhere is pulling on
a delicate thread.

Then as now, a president is preparing to leave and nobody knows how his replacement will
approach the issue of securing American interests in Afghanistan. And then, as now,
neighbouring India is in the midst of a massive arms build-up, triggering fears in Pakistan about
its own outdated hardware and growing gap in conventional capabilities.
Back in 1990, when the first failure to certify Pakistan came, there was a palpable sense of shock
in Pakistan about the betrayal. What was not properly understood within the country at the time,
partly due to the legacy of a controlled press, was that there was ample advance warning given
about the episode. But it seems Pakistan laid too much stock in the assurances given by their
friends in the Pentagon that somehow or the other, they will help find a way around
congressional ire and get Pakistan those F-16s.
What had happened was that Pakistan had begun losing support in Congress as far back as 1984,
when an amendment was adopted by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee that no military
equipment or technology shall be sold or transferred to Pakistan unless the president could first
certify that Pakistan does not possess a nuclear explosive device, is not developing a nuclear
device, and is not acquiring goods to make such a device.

The infamous Pressler Amendment replaced the certification required to simply be (1) that
Pakistan does not possess a nuclear explosive device; and (2) that new aid will reduce
significantly the risk that Pakistan will possess such a device in August 1985. This opened a
loophole in the law through which military assistance could continue flowing.
The arrest of Arshad Pervez in July 1987, a Pakistani national who was caught trying to procure
parts that could be used in a nuclear weapon, added enough fuel to the fire that the last three
certifications were all a hard-fought affair.
The arrangement of procuring assistance from America to help pay for an arms build-up in
Pakistan to match Indias growing capabilities was standing on a very narrow platform, which
was growing narrower every year. By 1989, Pakistan had lost Congress, and the certification
issued by the outgoing Reagan administration in December that year was only achieved after
hectic efforts.
A new president was sworn in the following February, and with the change in administration
came a change in faces, and a change in priorities. Since Pakistan was relying increasingly on the
personal relationships built up with administration officials over the decade of covert war in
Afghanistan, the change in administration swept away all the political capital the country had in
Washington D.C.
When the payment was made for the second batch of F-16s in 1990, it was the largest single
arms-related payment Pakistan had ever made, and it was made at a time when the country had
struggled to build up its reserves from just over two weeks of import coverage, helped by an IMF
programme signed in 1988.
This time around, the number of planes being procured is not as large, and the payment nowhere
near as heavy as it was back then. This time too, some assurances are circulating that if Pakistan
agrees to make full payment on the batch of F-16s, the funds promised under the FMF could be
disbursed through other channels, squaring the account.
It was a mistake on the part of the Foreign Office to state so flatly that it is the administrations
job to push Pakistans case in Congress. And Sartaj Azizs statement that Pakistan can buy its
fighter planes from elsewhere is also pulling on a delicate thread, because Pakistans economic
clout is not enough to sway sentiments in Congress. Its only eight planes after all, with a total
price tag of just about $700 million. The administration gave their response quite clearly: you
wish to buy them from elsewhere? Go right ahead.
The important lesson to draw here is the very weak and narrow foundations on which Pakistan
has historically built its relationship with America. There are no real economic stakes, no large
market access to leverage as political clout, no standing in the international community, no moral
high ground to invoke. Just like the 1980s, the relationship is built on transactional grounds and
heavily invested in personal relationships. Today that relationship is fraying, with the F-16
fighter once again the emblem of growing tensions.

Perhaps it is time to think about investing in other sources of strength besides military hardware.
The time is right to ask why we keep finding ourselves at the same crossroads again and again.